


Kill and Run

by zmaj



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Angst, Blood and Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 20:11:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15299127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zmaj/pseuds/zmaj
Summary: Hajime’s cup falls off the table. It shatters so easily, disrupting their breakfast and Hajime wonders if this is how the towns burn. Tiny mistake leading to a bigger one, and then everything ignites. He kneels to pick up what is left of the cup. It was pink, bought one month after they had moved in. A silly cheap thing, bought in a 100 yen shop. Hajime loved it. Now it is pink and a little red, tiny little drops of blood.(Assassin boyfriends playing kill (kiss) and run AU)





	Kill and Run

Hajime’s cup falls off the table. It shatters so easily, disrupting their breakfast and Hajime wonders if this is how the towns burn. Tiny mistake leading to a bigger one, and then everything ignites. He kneels to pick up what is left of the cup. It was pink, bought one month after they had moved in. A silly cheap thing, bought in a 100 yen shop. Hajime loved it. Now it is pink and a little red, tiny little drops of blood.

“Let’s be anyone but you and me today.” Tōru says suddenly.

He looks up and his gaze is a puzzle Hajime is too afraid to solve. He offers a weak smile in reply and when the floor is clean, he takes their plates and cleans them, washing off the crumbs with all the secrets he’s hiding from Tōru.  _That bag under their bed, guns in the bathroom, his past. Himself._

He sits down next to Tōru and sighs. His thumb stings from the cut. He thinks about the day before and the one before that and he wonders when he made a mistake that led to destroying his own tiny kingdom. This.

(Here is the truth: Sandcastles don’t last long. Kingdoms built on lies burn faster than a piece of paper soaked in gasoline.)

 

***

The day before: Hajime pressed to the ground, a dirty shoe on his face, that  _fucker_  laughing down at him.  _Do something!_ His mind screams at him, but all he sees is Tōru, his beautiful, beloved Tōru with his face scrunched and biting his nails in a worry why Hajime isn’t home yet. Hajime is so incredibly fuckedand so inexplicably in love.

Fifteen seconds later: The fucker’s dead body is covering him and dead eyes are only a breath away from his. Also Tōru. His beautiful Tōru, with a gun in his hands, standing few steps away, his posture stiff but perfect and his cold eyes empty, when they should be full of questions.

Hajime is still fucked and still in love.

For a second, Hajime fantasizes about Tōru crouching next to him and checking if he is okay. In reality, Tōru turns around and picks the phone. Without missing a beat he answers the call, “I missed. The suspect got away.”

Then he turns to Hajime and his tired eyes close. “Clean up the mess and get rid of the clothes before you come home.”

  
***

The night that follows (or what is left of it) is the longest night in Hajime’s life. The morning after is a calamity.  _Bang, bang_ echoes from the dead man's skull.  _Bang, Bang_ it finally reaches Hajime’s secret oasis. His muscles scream in agony and beg him to stop, but he can’t. He dumps the body, burns the clothes, takes a long shower and puts on a fresh pair of pants. He looks in the mirror only to check that there is no trace of blood (he ignores the bruised ribs). In his mind, the dead eyes still haunt him, but instead of the dead man, his brains provide him with a scenario of a dead Tōru. He sighs. Scrubs his fingers. Throws the glass in the mirror. It falls on the floor and breaks.

That wakes Tōru up.

Tōru doesn’t look any better, his face looks too old for the 25 year-old that he is and his voice is a mere whisper.

“That's enough, Hajime. Come to bed.”

Hajime chokes on all the love and memories and he grabs the sink because he doesn’t trust his legs. He doesn’t trust himself, but he trusts Tōru, and Tōru’s long fingers wrap around his arm, and another hand is on his hip, pulling him slowly away from the sink, step by step.

“Come,” Tōru repeats and Hajime breaks.

“Tōru, I-”

Immediately, Tōru stops him, “Now, you  _will_  sleep.”

And Hajime thinks  _how cruel it is,_ to be aware of your last moments in the paradise, only to know that you have exactly one morning until you are thrown out of it.  
  


 

Tōru makes love like war. Pressing Hajime's arms against the mattress, sitting on his thighs, smothering him with his everything. He likes to give all he's got. But this time around, he is the calm before the storm. He is the peace bringer, Hajime’s saviour. His kisses are like the rain that breathes life into the desert. One, two, three. A faint pit-pat and when Hajime looks up he pours all his feelings like an unexpected summer shower. The one you don't expect but you still welcome it.

Today, Tōru's presence is a solid rock. He is present, here, in Hajime's arms and his lips attached to Hajime's ear, his tiny breaths whispering promises, the outline of his smile tearing solid cities apart. Tearing Hajime's chest apart. Bit by bit, slowly, he finds his way on Hajime's lap, his hands tiptoeing up his strong arm, touching his veins, but only barely.

"You're doing this--"

"--on purpose, yes."

Tōru finishes the sentence for him. His fingers nest in Hajime's hair, and gently massage his head. Slowly, silently. Hajime closes his eyes, savouring the moment.

"I like you like that." Tōru hums.

"Like what?"

"Content in my arms." Hajime mumbles something that sounds like  _shutup_  but he knows his ears and face are getting red. Tōru's hands move to his cheeks, caressing his face and it feels too much and not enough at the same time. Tōru caressing him like this is what Hajime likes the most.

"I like it too."

He says, leaning in. How long until it is over? How much time are they allowed to call it theirs? This might be their own private paradise, but nothing is forever. Even staying in this safe haven, hidden away from the world must come to an end one day. Hajime feels the heavy reality weighing him down like arrows pressed at his neck and he shudders.

He turns around to kiss Tōru's knuckles, his thumb that presses down on his lip and Hajime worships his fingers powerful like the arrows. Maybe they will grow spikes and hurt him. But no, it isn't Tōru who will hurt him. Tōru wouldn't. Not Tōru,  _not him_. Hajime is the one who sinned.

"Hush," Tōru smiles.

"I haven't said anything yet," Hajime says.

"You will." Tōru presses thumb to his lower lip. Hajime feels it touching his teeth when he wants to reply and it hits him. Tōru knows.  _He knows_.

"Can it--" his voice breaks. He feels it rising in his veins, his chest, his throat. He's afraid, and fuck, he can't lose this. Not him. "Can it be not today?" he tries again.

Tōru laughs, and it is one of his old laughs, the ones that used to be reserved for  _Tobio,_  and that say  _I will crush you_ and it sounds so foreign, here in Hajime's arms. He closes his eyes when he feels fingers in his hair again. Tōru's lips are only a breath away from his. He's offering him time, Hajime realizes. Precious seconds, and one last chance to stop. He shudders.

"Now." Tōru says, pressing the softest kiss on his lips. Just like saying goodbye, a traitorous voice whispers to Hajime.

"I lied."

"What about?"

Hajime whispers: "Everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes."

"Liar." Tōru scoffs and Hajime chuckles. It hurts how good Tōru knows him.

"Look me in the eye, Hajime. And tell me--" his index finger landing on the top left side of Hajime’s chest, "that this – all of what we shared – is a lie."

Tōru's smile is thin and his hands are on Hajime's hips and he smells like sharp danger. He kisses him on his neck and then his lips drag up to Hajime's ear, whispering, "Tell me, if you dare, that your closed eyes and your shaky hands are a lie. When I kiss you like this-" he presses his lips to Hajime's eyelids, "-and when I touch you like this-" hand just a little below his navel, nails digging into his skin and Hajime arches (his mind curses his traitorous body) "-it was all a lie?"

Tōru's eyes are wide and bright and his hands are shaking. He stands up, his voice low and dangerous.

"Look at yourself. You're a fucking liar, Hajime."

He pushes Hajime's shoulder, once, twice and then his fist connects to Hajime's chest and he's crying, his face a mess. Hajime's hands wrap around his wrist and he tries to hug him. He's so tired.

"Let's just break up, Tōru. Please."

Tōru nods, he just fucking nods, and Hajime starts crying, too. He expected him to fight with words, fists, kisses, with all of his might.

Instead, he's caressing Hajime's hair again, shaky fingers and broken promises. Because in the end, Hajime could be the biggest fucking liar in the world, but Tōru would know him anyway, and find the truth between his shoulder blades and wrap it around his ankles.

Hajime had it all ready. The story about  _there is someone else,_  and the  _it is not you, it is me,_ because it is him _, him, him._ But in the end it doesn't matter because Tōru already knows it all without being told anything.

“I know.” Tōru chokes through his tears. “I know  _you.”_

Hajime is too afraid to make anything out of  _that,_ because if he starts putting one and one together he will need to admit to himself things he doesn’t want to. It is killing him, because he’s not used to being a coward. Then again, he’s not used to being a lot of this. He is not used to having this. A beautiful lie.

 

***  
  


“Do you have some extra job for me?”

Matsukawa didn’t look up when Hajime entered his office, stubbly chin, bags under his eyes and a travel bag on his shoulder. He didn’t question him plopping down on a sofa or his pitiful and messy presence. However, he is questioning Hajime's request, so he stops typing and gives Hajime a curious look of a man that secretly already knows the answer.

“There is always work for those who seek it.”

The unspoken line glints in his eyes:  _but you stopped seeking it voluntarily years ago._

“Something long and far away, if you please.”

Matsukawa clicks with his tongue and wonders when he became a relationship adviser.

“Look, it is not my position to tell you what to do but if you are taking up a job, do it with a clear head. Don’t let your personal issues mix with your job.”

Hajime doesn’t even blink, he just stares stubbornly as he says:

“My head is clear.”

“There was an extra dead body on your last, I quote, mission. Unquote.”

Hajime doesn’t plan to lose this battle. He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Taken care of. Please check the report I submitted.”

At that time, Hanamaki enters the room, with two cups of coffee in his hands. He gives one to Matsukawa and sits down next to him behind their desk carefully so he doesn’t stop the ongoing conversation. His fingers type in a steady rhythm. For a while, the bickering between Hajime and Matsukawa is like the background noise your brain learns to ignore. But something about the situation annoys Hanamaki. So, he decides to disrupt them by dropping a bomb: “That dead body. It could have been you.” It sounds more like  _Why weren't you_ _?_

Hajime wonders why indeed.

Matsukawa walks up to printing machine and taps his fingers as he turns around. “You will get what you want. A long, faraway and difficult mission. In exchange, I want you to stop lying to me. I am in charge of you and I need healthy and capable people for work. Clear your head, complete your job and come back. By then, I will put all the puzzles together, so you don’t need to worry how you will explain anything, understand?”

Hajime does. He really does, so he just nods, takes his file and says:

“I will do my best.”

**Author's Note:**

> PS: This is not really related to my work, but today I found out [this beautiful fanart](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/post/175862342397/youre-my-mission-then-finish-it) which is gorgeous and inspiring, so please give the artist some love!


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